


Bad Blood

by Taelyjy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Action, Drama, Gen, Mild Language, Other, lgbt+ underthemes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-12
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:08:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14856765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taelyjy/pseuds/Taelyjy
Summary: When a malicious gang starts terrorizing the townspeople, a group of unlikely students join together to challenge the mafia. The two clash again and again, until a competition arises, and the resulting battles are something no one expected, challenging loyalties on all sides.





	1. Purple

An afternoon breeze wafted through the street, rustling the fallen leaves that scattered the sidewalk. The young student looked up from her phone screen to watch a miniature tornado twirl away. Fall was here already. She sighed, clicking her phone off, and tucking the slim device into her pocket. School had started a few weeks ago, but autumn’s arrival was still dreaded. She kicked at an empty soda can, listening to its aluminum clatter. She could see other people on the sidewalk, but the street was frozen in its peaceful silence.

So a stifled cry for help was easy to pick out.

Her head shot up, eyes instantly scanning her surroundings. There were quite a few side alleys, but the cry had come from relatively close. She quickened her pace, peeking around the corner. Sure enough, a gruff looking man was holding a young boy against the wall, brandishing a knife. She could tell the poor boy was terrified, but didn’t dare call for help again. That knife was dangerously close to his throat. The man probably wasn’t going to actually use it, but the threat alone was doing its job. The boy didn’t dare move.

She watched as the man demanded the boy give him whatever money he had. Her mind worked at a million miles an hour. What could she do? She scanned the man, taking in his stance, build, and the way he was holding the blade. He didn’t look like an experienced fighter. Or trained at all. She searched the floor until…bingo. A section of metal pipe protruded from a small pile of trash. Perfect.

She dashed forward, and grabbed the pipe before the thug or the boy had a chance to react. She knew she was fast enough to dodge anything the man threw, so she leapt forward, swinging the pipe down as hard as she could on the purple bandanna he had around his neck. He barely had the chance to see the face of his attacker before collapsing to the sidewalk.

Nice.

“Well! That takes care of him.” They smiled at the young student, who was still shaking. She knelt down to pick up a few of the coins the boy had dropped. “Here you go kid. We should probably get out of here before this ruffian wakes up.” She stuck a thumb over their shoulder where the thug lay unconscious. The boy attempted a smile, but the tears that flooded his eyes interrupted it. “Thanks, Mister. That was really scary.” He blubbered, reaching out to take the coins. She smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “How old are you, kid?” He sniffled, wiping his nose on his sleeve. “Twelve.” She pulled a tissue from their pocket, and offered it to the poor boy. “You did good. I know when you’re big and strong, the mean people won’t be able to pick on you anymore.” She smiled again, “Now come on, let's get you home.” The boy followed after her as they left the alley, leaving the KO’d punk behind them.

* * *

“Ughhhh this sucks! Where is she?” The teenager looked at his phone screen for the second time in the last minute, and groaned again, kicking at the sidewalk’s dirty cement. He ran a hand over the street railing before hopping up on the metal bars. 

The boy beside him rolled his eyes, “Lance, she’s only a sophomore. Us seniors get out earlier than they do.”

The thin brunette sighed, “Yeah, I know. But I’m hungry.”

His friend snorted, “That’s usually my line you know.”

Lance cocked an eyebrow, “That doesn’t make me any less hungry.”

“Lance, Hunk, hey!” Both heads swiveled around at the newcomer jogging across the street. “Sorry about that!” She called, a little out of breath. “There was something I had to take care of.”

“Oh hey, Pidge!” Hunk called as Lance waved, “Glad you got here when you did. Lance was just started to get really whiny about being hungry.”

Lance's eyes widened in mock horror, “I wasn’t being whiny!”

Pidge only raised her eyebrows. “Well, now that I’m here, let’s go eat. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Ha!” Lance smirked, pointing at Hunk, “See I’m not the only who says they’re hungry!” Hunk rolled his eyes at Pidge’s questioning glance before dragging Lance off the railing. “Come on you goof. It’s time for food.”

* * *

They slid into a booth at the small diner, Hunk taking a deep breath and practically drooling in anticipation. Lance seemed just as eager for some high quality fast food. A waitress soon appeared, Hunk practically interrupting her greeting to order his meal. “Yeah, hi, uh, can I get a large cheeseburger, with extra cheese. And some fries.” The girl nodded, scribbling some things down on a small notepad. “Ooh, and onion rings. And maybe some chips.” Pidge laughed a little to herself as the waitress nodded, her forced smile drooping slightly. Hunk always got that kind of response from people that weren’t used to his appetite.

Lance cleared his throat, drawing the waitress’s attention, “Well, I don’t know if any meal would be able to satisfy me after running into a beauty like you.” Pidge mentally groaned as he winked before actually telling her his order.

“And for you…miss?” Pidge caught her hesitation, and smiled internally. People were always unsure of what to call her. She enjoyed the confusion she caused. “Just a regular cheeseburger. With onion rings.” The waitress nodded, and whirled off.

As the group waited for their food, Pidge absentmindedly stared out the window, her eyes following random people. She found herself watching a rather suspicious looking person, ambling along the edge of the sidewalk, watching everyone who passed by with greedy, dangerous eyes. Her eyes came to rest on a purple bandanna he had tied around his arm. The thug from earlier was wearing a purple bandanna too, around his neck if she remembered right.

Now that she thought about it, she’d been seeing a lot of purple bandannas around lately. She hadn’t been paying enough attention to see if it was all ruffians that had been wearing them, but she was willing to bet it was. Nothing had really gone down except the attempted robbery this morning…but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something big was happening, and those bandannas were a clue. “What is it with the purple bandannas?” She muttered to herself.

Lance and Hunk both stopped what they were doing, and glanced up at her, then out the window where she were looking. “Huh.” Hunk mumbled, “I could have sworn I saw a guy this morning wearing a purple bandanna just like that. Real creepy looking guy. Looked like he was up to no good.” He was soon distracted by their incoming food, and they all happily welcomed the tantalizing meals.

As she munched on the last few onion rings, her attention left her food to follow people out on the street. The suspicious man had been joined by an even more dangerous looking thug. This one also had a purple bandanna, wrapped around his wrist. She didn't miss how they scanned everyone who walked by, muttering to each other. They eventually pushed themselves up and followed a young couple, keeping their heads down while constantly glancing around them. Pidge frowned at whatever might befall the unsuspecting couple.

She glanced over to see Lance watching the event with the same expression she was. He met her gaze, his navy blue eyes abnormally dark. “Should we…do something about that?”

Hunk glanced over, “About what?”

Pidge took one last look as the two disappeared around a corner, and the thugs followed them. “Uh…probably. Yeah.” She grabbed her backpack, and Lance vaulted over Hunk.

“Hey, what the- Where are you guys going? You didn’t even finish your food!”

It was all Pidge could do not to snap at Hunk to hurry up. The longer they waited, the farther the couple and their stalkers went. And now that she’d decided to help them, she was actually really worried. Thankfully Lance was already explaining as he gathered up his trash. Hunk didn’t look too thrilled with the idea, but he followed anyway. They hurriedly paid for their food, and rushed out the door.

Lance and Pidge both took off running the minute they had a clear shot around the corner. Pidge was way faster than Lance, and shot ahead. Lance rushed after her, leaving a grumbling Hunk behind. He wasn’t opposed to what they were doing, he actually thought they were really cool. But they were just a little too high energy style for his tastes.

Pidge dashed around the corner, Lance close behind her. Neither group was in sight. Shit. “Lance, check the alleys! They could be anywhere.” He split off, heading to the other sidewalk. Pidge frantically scanned every side street, alley, and backroad she passed. Nothing. Where could they have gone? She looked over just as Lance skidded to a stop past a shadowed alley, and peeked around the corner. He looked up and waved her over. She jogged across the street, careful to stay out of range of the alley. She didn’t want to scare the thugs into doing anything rushed. She just hoped they would get there in time.

Lance looked up as she slowed, creeping to his side. He cocked his head, and moved out of the way so she could peek around the corner. “Do you have your knives?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah, I always have them. But I don’t want to use them. Not unless I absolutely have to.” She glanced up the street as Hunk appeared around the corner, moseying over to them. Normally, she’d be a little peeved that he was taking his sweet time, but today she knew he was doing them a favor by staying out of their way. He hated fighting, and the two of them could handle themselves just fine.

Most of the time.

These two looked a lot more experienced than the thug she had knocked out earlier. But this time, Lance was with her, and she knew Hunk would help them if they needed him. They could do this.

“Stop whining like a little bitch, and give me your money! Do it, and no one gets hurt.” One of the thugs demanded. Pidge frowned, her mind working a million miles an hour. Three thugs wearing purple bandannas. Four, if she counted Hunk’s sighting. Two robberies that she had witnessed, and who knows what the fourth had been up to? What was going on?

Pidge watched as the shorter of the two thugs slammed the man into the wall. His girlfriend, or wife, cried out in panic, but didn’t move from where the other thug had her pinned against the brick wall. “Please, don’t hurt him.” She whimpered.

“Alright Lance, let’s get rid of these guys.” He nodded, stepping around her.

“Hate to rain on your parade, but we’re here to break up your party.” Both gangsters turned their heads at his voice, taking a moment to really observe them both.

The taller of the two scoffed, “Get lost, kid. Unless you want your ass beat.” He turned back to the couple, and Pidge saw Lance’s fist tighten out of the corner of her eye. Oh ho ho, they’d done it now. Lance was usually a really patient guy, but there was one thing he just couldn’t stand. And that was when people talked down to him.

He took a few heavy steps forward, “I’m talking to you, you big oaf. Leave them alone, and get out of here.” The thug fully turned in Lance’s direction, pulling himself up to his full height. “Are you deaf, you little pipsqueak? I said get lost!” When Lance didn’t stop, he took a few steps forward himself. And then he swung.

Pidge watched in awe as Lance easily ducked under the punch, coming up with a fierce uppercut, that connected with the big man’s jaw. His head snapped back, and he stumbled into his surprised partner. "You little bastard!” The shorter man hissed, rushing Lance. Pidge saw him reach into his pocket, and she jumped into action too. “Lance, look out!” She cried, reaching up under her shirt where her twin blades were strapped to her back.

The alley echoed as the clash of steel ricocheted off the brick walls.

Pidge grinned as the familiar slam of metal on metal vibrated up her arm, a small flash of sparks appearing as the blades crashed against one another. The thug’s pocket knife clattered against the brick wall, spinning on the asphalt before coming to a stop. She had knocked it clean out of his hand. Amateur. She smirked up at him.

Both of the gangsters were staring, wide eyed, at her and Lance; clearly realizing their mistake in underestimating the two students.

“Now would be the time to get out of here.” Hunk called from somewhere behind her. Pidge wasn’t sure if he was talking to the thieves, or the couple, but they both responded, scrambling to get out of the alley. The two thugs ran off immediately, but the couple hesitated long enough to say thank you. Pidge just nodded appreciatively as Lance went on about something she tuned out.

She slid her dagger back into its sheath against her back, noticing a purple bandanna laying on the ground. She picked up the violet fabric, studying it for a moment, hoping it held some information for her. When the square yielded no evidence, she sighed and tucked it into her pocket. It might come in handy later on.


	2. Pink

An alarm clock sounded from across the room, coaxing a sleep deprived college student out of her bed. She plodded across the carpet floor, turning off the infernal device. A long sigh escaped her lips before pulling her closet open and rummaging through for something to wear. After finding an acceptable wardrobe, she stumbled into her bathroom to get ready for the day.

A little over an hour later, a refined and graceful young lady emerged with a pile of neatly folding pajamas in her hands, which she promptly dumped into the hamper. “Ah, that’s better!” She sighed in a thick accent. She glanced at her wrist watch, “Right on time.” She announced to no one, gathering up her pre-prepared bag, sliding the strap over her shoulder as she left her apartment.

The street was alive with the morning birds, singing their songs to each other, or to no one. The steady click of her heels and the swish of her skirt was her own contribution to the tune around her. She loved the constant music of the city.

Morning air was always nice and chilly, no matter what time of the year. But she enjoyed autumn the most, because it was always the perfect temperature in her opinion. She hated the muggy heat of summer, and still failed to see how everyone else enjoyed it so much. And the bitter cold of winter was just terrible. She mentally shrugged. To each his own.

She pulled open the door of her favorite coffee shop, the familiar little bells a tinkling finale to the morning song. The tiny shop wasn’t very crowded, but it never was at this time of day. A few other customers stood around, either sipping coffee, or waiting for some. She gave them her order, then took her place on the waiting train.

After a short moment, a worker moved forward with a ready cup; and everyone glanced up to see what name she would call. “Pidge?” The girl said loudly, waiting as a short customer stumbled forward.

Pidge…the name sounded familiar. She looked at the young student’s face, and knew exactly why. “Pidge Holt?”

The groggy teenager turned toward her, looking confused. She watched as recognition crossed her young friend’s face. “Allura?”

She laughed, nodding, "It's been a while, hasn't it?”

* * *

“Wow, I can’t believe it’s been four years already!” Pidge was significantly more awake, and Allura wasn’t sure if it was from the coffee or excitement, Maybe it was both. “It seems like it was just last summer! I still remember everything about that camp.” Pidge gushed. 

They had claimed a table at the coffee shop and were now reminiscing about past adventures. Allura usually used this time to go over work that was due, just to make sure she had it all done, and done correctly. But she hadn’t seen Pidge for years, so she was happy to risk it today. Besides, she had never been one to skimp on work anyway.

“Do you still do that cool whip thing?” The younger girl asked, her amber eyes wide with curiosity.

Allura chuckled, “Yes, but let’s keep that on the down low.”

Pidge nodded, grinning in understanding. Allura was the daughter of a prestigious corporation owner, and her interest in unorthodox weapons wouldn’t be looked upon kindly. “Do you still practice your knife skills as faithfully as you did years ago?”

Pidge grinned, “Every day before sundown.”

The two girls giggled, then quieted, losing themselves to old memories.

Four years ago, the two had met at a summer camp, Pidge a camper, Allura a counsellor. Allura was just out of high school, and exploring her new freedom that came with age. One said freedom was her attraction to uncommon weapons, and fighting styles that she could study without her parents’ constant eye. The week before camp, she had just bought her very first bullwhip, and was working to perfect her ability to use it. One evening while practicing, she happened upon a young camper who was drilling in the forest with two knives, twin daggers almost the length of her arm. Upon being discovered by each other, the two decided to start practicing together, and thus became the best of friends.

And now here they were, years later, still kindred spirits. Allura glanced down at her watch. Her extra time was up. “Sadly, I’ve got to go now. Classes start early, and I can’t afford to be late.”

Pidge glanced down at her phone. “I should probably get moving too. Hey, wanna exchange numbers before we go? Then we can plan a hangout day or something later on.”

Allura smiled, pulling out her own phone, “That sounds like a grand idea.” They traded contacts, then waved each other goodbye, heading in opposite directions.

Allura picked up her brisk walk again, headed toward her college. The street outside the campus was lined with cherry trees, and she absolutely loved when the blossoms all started to fall, covering the road in pale pink flowers.

“Hey there, beautiful!” Her thoughts were rudely interrupted by a slimy looking man a few feet in front of her. He was wearing an oil-stained jacket, his greasy hair tied up under a dirty purple bandanna. She sent him a warning glare, but didn’t stop. “Ah come on, don’t be like that.” He chuckled, stepping into her path. “I came all this way to talk to you, the least you could do is give me a moment of your time.” He reached out at her arm as she walked by, but she roughly yanked it away. “I did not ask for your attention, nor do I find it at all attractive. Do not touch me unless I give you permission.”

His leering smirk turned upside down in an instance, “You’re a real bitch, aren’t you.”

Before she could react, he grabbed her by the shoulders, dragging her down a small alley between two apartment buildings. “Let go of me!” She cried, attempting to shake his grip off. But he was dragging her too roughly for her to get a good footing. He slammed her against a wall, and growled at her “I hate spoiled brats like you. Think you’re entitled or some shit? Maybe I should drag you off your high horse.”

But he had already made his mistake the minute he stopped pulling her. She brought her knee up hard, right between his legs. He wheezed in pain, and she slammed both palms against his chest, sending him stumbling back. Before he had a chance to recover, her elbow connected solidly with his face. A satisfying crunch sounded as his nose shattered.

She glared down at him while he shrunk back in shock and pain. “I may be entitled, but don’t assume that makes me weak.” She hmph’d, adjusting her skirt, and reaching up to fix her hair. “If I’m late for class because of you, I shall _not_ be happy.” She muttered, vanishing around the corner.

* * *

The warehouse reeked of oil and gasoline. The mid day sun was peeking in through the many windows lining the ceiling, illuminating the big room. A group of men were gathered below, some sitting, some standing. Almost all of them angry.

“I’m still pissed off!” One of the men yelled. “Those brats just think they can order us around? I don’t think so.” He paced angrily, grumbling to himself.

One of his comrades nodded, “I can’t get that smug little bastard out of my head.”

The first man scoffed at him, “You can't get him out of your head? You’re not the one who got socked in the face. By a fucking teenager!” He gestures to his bruised jaw for emphasis.

The second man just shook his head. “That stupid kid’s burned in my mind! His ugly ass hair. His eyes! His eyes are just burning into me! And those annoying fucking glasses!” He groaned, “What I wouldn’t give to smash those perfectly round frames.”

One of the others in the group perked up a little. “Did you say perfectly round?” The second one nodded.

The third laughed dryly, “Funny, I got jumped by some kid with round glasses too. Knocked me on the back of the head when I wasn’t looking. Damn coward.”

The first man scoffed, “Let me guess, he was really short too. Blond hair. Petite.” He rolled his eyes.

“Actually…yeah, now that you mention in. Had big brown eyes? Kind of looked like a girl?”

The second man glanced over, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

A fourth chimed in, “Hey, I saw a kid like that earlier today. I was scoping out this fine chick, and she was hanging out with him in the coffee shop.”

The first man snorted, “Was this the same chick who broke your nose?”

He just glared at them.

“But seriously, I think this kid’s a problem. We should take him out before he gets too cocky. One time wouldn’t be too big a deal, but give ‘em an inch, and they’ll take a mile. That’s too many incidents to ignore.” The first man declared, “Personally, I’d like to get my hands on that damn brunet, but the blond works too. We need to put him back in his place. ”

Three sets of eyes turned to him. “Take him out?” The third man muttered, “You don’t mean kill him, do you?”

The first man scowled, “No of course not! We were given specific orders not to kill anyone. We can’t do anything too dangerous. No, we’ll just jump him, rough him up a little. Teach him the price for messing with the Galra. Word will get around, that we don’t take shit from anyone. No one.”


End file.
